"EDWARD is to be in London next week," said Mrs. Ravensworth; "and Itrust, Edith, that you will meet him with the frankness he isentitled to receive."
Edith Hamilton, who stood behind the chair of her aunt, did not makeany answer.
Mrs. Ravensworth continued--"Edward's father was your father's ownbrother. A man of nobler spirit never moved on English soil; and Ihear that Edward is the worthy son of a worthy sire."
"If he were as pure and perfect as an angel, aunt," replied Edith,"it would be all the same to me. I have never seen him, and cannot,therefore, meet him as one who has a right to claim my hand."
"Your father gave you away when you were a child, Edith; and Edwardcomes now to claim you by virtue of this betrothal."
"While I love the memory of my father, and honour him as a childshould honour a parent," said Edith, with much seriousness, "I donot admit his right to give me away in marriage while I was yet achild. And, moreover, I do not think the man who would seek toconsummate such a marriage contract worthy of any maiden's love.Only the heart that yields a free consent is worth having, and theman who would take any other is utterly unworthy of any woman'sregard. By this rule I judge Edward to be unworthy, no matter whathis father may have been."
"Then you mean," said Mrs. Ravensworth, "deliberately to violate thesolemn contract made by your father with the father of Edward?"
"I cannot receive Edward as anything but a stranger," replied Edith."It will not mend the error of my father for me to commit a stillgreater one."
"How commit a still greater one?" inquired Mrs. Ravensworth.
"Destroy the very foundation of a true marriage--freedom of choiceand consent. There would be no freedom of choice on his part, and noprivilege of consent on mine. Happiness could not follow such aunion, and to enter into it would be doing a great wrong. No, aunt,I cannot receive Edward in any other way than as a stranger--forsuch he is."
"There is a clause in your father's will that you may haveforgotten, Edith," said her aunt.
"That which makes me penniless if I do not marry Edward Hamden?"
"Yes."
"No--I have not forgotten it, aunt."
"And you mean to brave that consequence?"
"In a choice of evils we always take the least." Edith's voicetrembled.
Mrs. Ravensworth did not reply for some moments. While she satsilent, the half-closed door near which Edith stood, and towardwhich her aunt's back was turned, softly opened, and a handsomeyouth, between whom and Edith glances of intelligence instantlypassed, presented the startled maiden with a beautiful white rose,and then noiselessly retired.
It was nearly a minute before Mrs. Ravensworth resumed the lightemployment in which she was engaged, and as she did so, she said--
"Many a foolish young girl gets her head turned with those gaygallants at our fashionable watering-places, and imagines that shehas won a heart when the object of her vain regard never felt thethrob of a truly unselfish and noble impulse."
The crimson deepened on Edith's cheeks and brow, and as she liftedher eyes, she saw herself in a large mirror opposite, with heraunt's calm eyes steadily fixed upon her. To turn her face partlyaway, so that it could no longer be reflected from the mirror, wasthe work of an instant. In a few moments she said--
"Let young and foolish girls get their heads turned if they will.But I trust I am in no danger."
"I am not so sure of that. Those who think themselves most secureare generally in the greatest danger. Who is the youth with whom youdanced last evening? I don't remember to have seen him here before."
"His name is Evelyn." There was a slight tremor in Edith's voice.
"How came you to know him?"
"I met him here last season."
"You did?"
"Yes, ma'am. And I danced with him last night. Was there any harm inthat?" The maiden's voice had regained its firmness.
"I didn't say there was," returned Mrs. Ravensworth, who againrelapsed into silence. Not long after, she said--"I think we willreturn to London on Thursday."
"So soon!" Edith spoke in a disappointed voice.
"Do you find it so very pleasant here?" said the aunt, a littleironically.
"I have not complained of its being dull, aunt," replied Edith. "Butif you wish to return on Thursday, I will be ready to accompanyyou."
Soon after this, Edith Hamilton left her aunt's room, and went toone of the drawing-rooms of the hotel at which they were staying,where she sat down near a recess window that overlooked a beautifulpromenade. She had been here only a few minutes, when she was joinedby a handsome youth, to whom Edith said--
"How could you venture to the door of my aunt's parlour? I'm halfafraid she detected your presence, for she said, immediatelyafterward, that we would return to London on the day afterto-morrow."
"So soon? Well, I'll be there next week, and it will be strange if,with your consent, we don't meet often."
"Edward Hamden is expected in a few days," replied Edith, her voiceslightly faltering.
Her companion looked at her searchingly for a few moments, and thensaid--
"You have never met him?"
"Never."
"But when you do meet him, the repugnance you now feel may instantlyvanish."
A shadow passed over Edith's face, and she answered in a voice thatshowed the remark--the tone of which conveyed more than the wordsthemselves--to have been felt as a question of her constancy.
"Can one whose heart is all unknown to me, one who must think of mewith a feeling of dislike because of bonds and pledges, prove anearer or a dearer friend than--"
Edith did not finish the sentence. But that was not needed. Theglance of rebuking tenderness cast upon her companion expressed allthat her lips had failed to utter.
"But you do not know me, Edith," said the young man.
"My heart says differently," was Edith's lowly spoken reply.
Evelyn pressed the maiden's hand, and looked into her face with anearnest, loving expression.
Mrs. Ravensworth, to whose care Edith had been consigned on thedeath of her father, had never been pleased with the unwise contractmade by the parents of her niece and Edward Hamden. The latter hadbeen for ten years in Paris and Italy, travelling and pursuing hisstudies. These being completed, in obedience to the will of adeceased parent, he was about returning to London to meet his futurewife. No correspondence had taken place between the parties to thisunnatural contract; and, from the time of Edward's letter, when heannounced to Mrs. Ravensworth his proposed visit, it was plain thathis feelings were as little interested in his future partner as werehers in him.
During the two or three days that Mrs. Ravensworth and her nieceremained at the watering-place, Edith and young Evelyn metfrequently; but, as far as possible, at times when they supposed theparticular attention of the aunt would not be drawn toward them insuch a manner as to penetrate their love secret. When, at length,they parted, it was with an understanding that they were to meet inLondon.
On returning to the city, the thoughts of Edith reverted moredirectly to the fact of Edward Hamden's approaching visit; and, inspite of all her efforts to remain undisturbed in her feelings, thenear approach of this event agitated her. Mrs. Ravensworthfrequently alluded to the subject, and earnestly pressed upon Ediththe consideration of her duty to her parent, as well as theconsequences that must follow her disregard of the contract whichhad been made. But the more she talked on this subject, the morefirm was Edith in expressing her determination not to do violence toher feelings in a matter so vital to her happiness.
The day at length came upon which Edward Hamden was to arrive. Edithappeared, in the morning, with a disturbed air. It was plain to theclosely observing eyes of her aunt, that she had not passed a nightof refreshing sleep.
"I trust, my dear niece," she said, after they had retired from thebreakfast table, where but little food had been taken, "that youwill not exhibit toward Edward, on meeting him, any of thepreconceived and unjust antipathy you entertain. Let our feelings,at least, remain uncommitted for or against him."
"Aunt Helen, it is useless to talk to me in this way," Edithreplied, with more than her usual warmth. "The simple fact of anobligation to love puts a gulf between us. My heart turns from himas from an enemy. I will meet him with politeness; but it must becold and formal. To ask of me more, is to ask what I cannot give. Ionly wish that he possessed the manliness I would have had ifsimilarly situated. Were this so, I would now be free by his act,not my own."
Seeing that all she urged but made the feelings of Edith opposethemselves more strongly to the young man, Mrs. Ravensworth ceasedto speak upon the subject, and the former was left to brood with adeeply disturbed heart over the approaching interview with one whohad come to claim a hand that she resolutely determined not toyield.
About twelve o'clock, Mrs. Ravensworth came to Edith's room andannounced the arrival of Edward Hamden. The maiden's face becamepale, and her lips quivered.
"If I could but be spared an interview," she murmured. "But that ismore than I can ask."
"How weak you are, Edith," replied her aunt, in a tone of reproof.
"I will join you in the drawing-room in half an hour," said Edith,speaking more calmly.
Mrs. Ravensworth retired, and left Edith again to her own thoughts.She sat for nearly the whole of the time she had mentioned. Thenrising hurriedly, she made a few changes in her attire; after whichshe descended to the drawing-room with a step that was far frombeing firm.
So noiselessly did she enter the apartment where Hamden awaited her,that neither her aunt nor the young man perceived her presence forsome moments, and she had time to examine his appearance, and toread the lineaments of his half-averted face. While she stood thusobserving him, her countenance suddenly flushed, and she bentforward with a look of surprise and eagerness. At this moment theyoung man became aware that she had entered, and rising up quickly,advanced to meet her.
"Evelyn!" exclaimed Edith, striking her hands together, the momenthe turned toward her.
"Edith! my own Edith!" returned the young man, as he grasped herhand, and ventured a warm kiss on her beautiful lips. "Not Evelyn,but Hamden. Our parents betrothed us while we were yet too young togive or withhold consent. Both, as we grew older, felt this pledgeas a heart-sickening constraint. But we met as strangers, and I sawthat you were all my soul could desire. I sought your regard and wonit. No obligation but love now binds us."
The young man then turned to Mrs. Ravensworth, and said--
"You see, madam, that we are not strangers."
Instead of looking surprised, Mrs. Ravensworth smiled calmly, andanswered--
"No--it would be singular if you were. Love-tokens don't generallypass, nor familiar meetings take place between strangers."
"Love-tokens, Aunt Helen?" fell from the lips of Edith, as sheturned partly away from Hamden, and looked inquiringly at herrelative.
"Yes, dear," returned Mrs. Ravensworth. "White roses, for instance.You saw your own blushing face. in the mirror, did you not?"
"The mirror! Then you saw Edward present the rose?"
"And did you know me?" inquired the young man.
"One who knew your rather as well as I did could not fail to knowthe son. I penetrated your love secret as soon as it was known toyourselves."
"Aunt Helen!" exclaimed Edith, hiding her face on the neck of herkind relative, "how have I been deceived!"
"Happily, I trust, love," returned Mrs. Ravensworth, tenderly.
"Most happily! My heart swells with gladness almost to bursting,"came murmuring from the lips of the joyful maiden.
THE END.
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